


Eighth Day

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: AKA Jonah [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babies, Canon Jewish Character, Custody Arrangements, Discussion of Adoption, Friendship, Gen, Hebrew Names, Lawyers, Offscreen But Still Friendship, Rachel Berry & Noah Puckerman Friendship, Season/Series 01, Teenage Parents, Ultrasound: Not As Accurate As You Have Been Led To Believe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: Beth is not a Beth.





	Eighth Day

Puck looks up and down the quiet hallway, then feeds more coins into the pay phone. “God bless Ohio for being behind the times,” he mutters, then punches in Finn’s phone number without really thinking about it. He listens to the phone ring nervously, but it only rings twice before someone on the other end picks up, and Puck exhales with relief that Carole wasn’t, for some reason, trying to monitor Finn’s phone. 

“Hello?” Finn says, slightly out of breath. “Did Quinn have the baby? The phone says this call is coming from Grant Medical Center. Mercedes?”

Puck clears his throat, even though he told himself before he dialed not to do that. “So Beth’s not a Beth. She’s a boy. He’s a boy.” 

“Puck?” Now Finn sounds confused. 

“Shelby wanted to adopt her if she was Beth, but she left when she heard Beth was a boy.” Puck growls a little in frustration. “Sorry. His name’s not Beth. He. The baby.” 

Finn exhales loudly into the receiver. “Oh. Oh wow. So he’s a boy? Quinn had a boy?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, shit. _You_ had a boy,” Finn says. “You have a _son_. Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I don’t know…” Puck trails off and sighs, looking down the hallway again.

“But Quinn’s okay, right? And the baby?”

“Yeah, Quinn’s fine. Her mom’s here. It’s real good for her,” Puck says. “I mean, good for her, right?” 

“But what about the baby? If Quinn isn’t keeping him, and Shelby isn’t taking him, what’s gonna happen to him?” Finn asks. 

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Finn goes quiet for a few beats, then he says, “Well, so are you taking him?”

“I—I don’t know, dude,” Puck admits. “I’m pretty thrown still.” 

“Is there something that you need? Like, can I do something about all of this?” Finn asks. 

“Schue said he’d give me a ride back tonight. Offered to drive me back tomorrow,” Puck says. “So that’s taken care of, I guess. And I’d better be the one to tell Mom.” 

“I guess let me know if you need anything,” Finn says. “Wow. A _boy_.” He laughs a little. “I guess you can’t call him Beth, huh?”

Puck laughs, too. “And Quinn was probably right about Jack Daniels.” 

“Yeah. Probably can’t call him that, either.”

“Not Daniel either, I hate that story,” Puck says. “I guess if anyone calls you, you can let them know.” 

“Yeah. Okay, I will. Tell Quinn… Actually, I don’t know what to tell her. Tell her something nice, I guess,” Finn says. 

“Her mom kept saying she looked so slim already, so I’ll tell her that her mom’s right or something, I guess,” Puck says. “I guess I’ll be at school Monday anyway.” 

“Okay. Congratulations, man,” Finn says. “Whatever else goes down, you’ve got a son.”

“Yeah.” Puck lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Later.” He hangs up the pay phone and stares at it, then rests his forehead on it for what feels like at least half an hour before he hears footsteps. He straightens and heads down the hall. Schue probably wants to start the drive back to Lima before it gets much later. 

 

Puck is not in school on Monday morning. He isn’t in Columbus at Grant, either, but instead he’s at home, moving furniture according to his mother’s carefully detailed list. The end result of the list, Puck can tell, is him on the couch and the baby in his room. The still-unnamed baby, that his mom decided _she_ was bringing home, currently traveling to Lima from Grant with Puck’s mom. Puck sighs and empties a drawer, carrying the contents over to a bin that he’s supposed to put in the downstairs hall closet. 

The list is finished before Puck’s mom arrives, which Puck decides is probably a good thing, and as soon as he hears her car coming, he heads into the kitchen to start washing dishes. Better, he figures, to look busy. 

As the front door swings open, Puck’s mom calls out, “I’m home with your son, Noah.”

Puck turns off the water and dries his hands, thinking to himself that people are pretty fond of the word ‘son,’ especially considering they were all expecting a girl instead. “I finished the list,” Puck reports to his mom as he leaves the kitchen. 

“Good. I’ve picked up some furniture. You can assemble it in your bedroom,” his mom says. She has the baby in a bucket car seat, tucked under a blanket so only part of his face is visible below his hospital-issued knit hat. 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says. “Is he supposed to be all slumped over like that?” 

“He’s a newborn, Noah. He can’t support his head. His neck will get stronger.”

“I thought that was why people said to support the neck. Geez, Mom,” Puck says, rolling his eyes and heading towards the door to find the furniture she mentioned. “How many boxes?” 

“Two for the crib, one for the changing table,” she says. “If we push your bed all the way to the wall, there should be plenty of room. I have diapers and other necessities as well.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck mutters, walking outside. “How am I supposed to know all this, anyway?” he asks the car. “It’s not like I thought we were bringing home baby boy or anything.”

By the time Puck has all the boxes and bags inside, he can hear the baby starting to fuss. “Should I get out one of these bottles and wash it?” he asks his mom. 

“Everything needs to be sterilized. You can put on a pot of water, I suppose.”

“Won’t he get hungry before that finishes? Hungrier?” 

Puck’s mom makes a dismissive noise. “He’ll be fine. He had a bottle right before we left the hospital. He doesn’t need another one quite yet.”

Puck frowns, because that sounds like a long time, and he had snuck snacks onto the bus for Regionals and then Schue’d taken them through the Burger King drive-through on the way back to Lima. He gets out the pot and fills it with water anyway. “That long?” 

“Babies don’t need to eat that often. I know what I’m doing here, Noah. I _have_ raised two children already, after all.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says, but he rolls his eyes as he turns away from her and adjusts the flame on the stove. “I’m going to go work on that assembling, I guess.” 

His mom nods. “Good. I’d like to establish a bedtime routine as early as possible.”

Puck remembers his old bedtime routine, which is probably why he wrinkles his nose as he goes back upstairs to start assembling the crib. “Poor kid,” he tells the instructions. “I hope she at least holds the toothbrush for him until he’s a little older.” 

Puck does go back to school on Tuesday morning, and he manages to time his arrival so that he doesn’t really have to talk to anyone before first period starts. When he walks into second period, Finn’s already in the room, so Puck steers towards him, half out of habit he hasn’t managed to shake over the past months, and half because of a deliberate decision in his mind. Puck drops into the seat next to Finn’s and nods towards him. 

“Hey,” Finn says. 

“I got put to work yesterday instead of school,” Puck says. 

“Oh. Baby duty?”

“Furniture assembly,” Puck says. “Mom’s got him on some weird schedule. I think she brushed his teeth last night. His gums?” 

Finn’s head tilts to the side. “Brushed his gums? That’s weird. Why would she do that?”

“Bedtime routine. Remember how she used to be when I was younger?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, grimacing. “She’s already doing the routine with… what’s his name?”

“Oh.” Puck stops. “He… doesn’t have one yet.” 

“But he’s a person.”

“Did someone say he wasn’t?” Puck shrugs. “It hasn’t come up. I don’t even know if Quinn wants to see him or anything.” 

“But if he’s a person, he has to have a name,” Finn says. “He has to have one on his, you know, papers. His birth papers and stuff.”

“I don’t think he has those yet. I don’t know, Mom didn’t really say. I didn’t go back to the hospital,” Puck says.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Finn says, with a tone that suggests he doesn’t really think it means sense, but he isn’t arguing. 

 

By Thursday afternoon, Puck has only held the baby once, he’s listened to the baby cry a few times, and he’s made exactly one bottle. 

“I’m making him a bottle,” Puck says, walking into the kitchen where his mom is cooking and the baby is in the car seat, screaming. 

“It’s not time for him to eat yet,” Puck’s mom says. “Once I’m done with this, I’ll feed him.”

“He’s screaming. I can do it,” Puck says. 

“You don’t know anything about babies. I’ve raised—”

“I know. _Two_ babies,” Puck interrupts, picking up the baby somewhat awkwardly. “Um, hi. Shh.” 

“If you hold him every time he cries, he’ll expect to be picked up every time he makes a peep,” Puck’s mom says, but she’s already turned her attention back to the pot on the stove. 

“I’m pretty sure you already expect that, or you wouldn’t be crying,” Puck mutters to the baby as he leaves the kitchen. He doesn’t have a bottle, but he’s not sure how he’d carry it anyway, and the baby seems happier already. He’s not screaming, at least. Puck walks up the stairs with him, away from his mom’s comments, and stands in front of the bathroom mirror. 

“Oh, shit, you do sort of look like me,” Puck says as the baby yawns. “That’s pretty wild. How can you be tired already? It’s not been that long since you took a nap.” 

Puck doesn’t say anything to his mom, but for the rest of the evening, whenever the baby cries, he picks him up, and he’s pretty sure his mom is getting angry by the time they all go to bed. Puck thinks about that instead of paying attention in class the next day, and for another hour or two after he gets home from school. While the baby naps, Puck pulls out an old notebook, and after dinner, he calls Finn, hoping Finn’ll answer. 

“Hey,” Finn says, after a couple of rings. “How’s—does he have a name yet?”

“How does Joel Noah Puckerman sound?” Puck says, reading it off the page in front of him. 

“Jonah Puckerman?” Finn says. 

“No, Joel Noah,” Puck repeats. 

“Dude, it still sounds like you’re saying Jonah. It’s not Jonah?”

“You can, I don’t know, call him that?” Puck says. “Joel Noah. Like Billy Joel.” 

“Oh. _Joel_. That’s nice. I like it,” Finn says. 

“I think I need to take over.” 

“Take over?”

“The baby. Joel. Jonah. From my mom,” Puck says quietly, looking again to make sure the door is closed.

“Oh. Wow. So, you decided for sure you’re gonna keep him?” Finn asks. 

Puck glances at the crib. “I mean, dude, my _mom_ can’t raise him.” 

“It kinda seemed like she wanted to, though,” Finn says. 

“She keeps talking about how she’s already raised two kids, and—I can’t let him turn out like Chloe has so far. Or me. Or having to watch _Schindler’s List_ in kindergarten.” 

“Ouch. Yeah, I guess not,” Finn says. “But you live there. How are you gonna keep her from taking over?”

“His crib’s in my room, right? I have to figure out how to get money to buy more formula, though, ‘cause after she figures it out, she might stop buying it.” 

“Are you gonna start cleaning pools again?”

“I have to buy formula in the winter too, dude. That won’t work,” Puck says. 

“What are you gonna do?” Finn asks. “Can you do snow shoveling or something in the winter?”

“I don’t know! That still leaves fall and spring,” Puck says. “And probably he’ll need more clothes by fall, too.” 

Finn hums to himself for a second. “Can I call you back in a few minutes?”

“Yeah, if I don’t pick up, keep calling, ‘cause I have it on silent. He’s asleep.” 

“Okay,” Finn says, then ends the call. 

Puck sets his phone down and looks over at the baby—Joel or Jonah, and at least they both start with J—as he sleeps. His entire chest and belly move up and down, his head turned slightly to one side, and Puck nods a little to himself. He goes online and orders car seat strap covers, because he doesn’t care what his mom says, Joel’s head slumps a lot in the car seat, and there’s no reason for that. It’s ten dollars he doesn’t really have. He buys them anyway.

“It’s not your fault you’re not a girl, I guess,” Puck whispers as he stands next to the crib, looking down. “You didn’t know we were all expecting a girl that we were gonna name Beth, and Shelby Corcoran was gonna adopt that girl named Beth, and I still probably would have gotten to see her some.” Puck stops and shrugs. “Weird. You get more of me and vice versa since you’re a little dude instead. I don’t know how lucky that is for you, but I promise, I’m going to try to do better than your grandma would have done. Okay?” 

Joel keeps sleeping, the same deep, even breathing, but he doesn’t wake up and fuss, which means he’s either _really_ tired or he’s getting used to hearing Puck’s voice around most of the time. After standing there staring for a long time, Puck realizes that his phone’s on the desk vibrating, and he’s startled when he looks at the clock, at how much time has passed. 

“Shit, I hope Finn hasn’t been calling over and over,” Puck mutters, grabbing his phone and answering it quickly. “Hey.” 

“Hey. So, you’re gonna work for Burt, okay?” Finn says. 

“I can’t take a baby to an auto repair shop,” Puck says. 

“You can’t take a baby out in the snow, either.”

“I could’ve, I don’t know. Left him in the truck with the heat on?” 

“What?” Finn squawks. “You can’t leave a baby in a car. Don’t you watch the news?”

“That’s only in the summer, when it gets _too_ hot,” Puck says. “Anyway. Okay. Burt. Where do I take him? My mom’d just put him right back on a schedule with added, I don’t know. Drill sergeant instructions.” 

“I guess I could babysit him some if you needed me to,” Finn says. 

“You have to pick him up,” Puck says. 

“Well, yeah,” Finn says. “Like, how else am I gonna get him places? Roll him?”

“Mom leaves him in the car seat and carries it from room to room with her,” Puck says. “Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker.” He sets the phone down and does put it on speaker before going over to the crib, where Joel is staring up at Puck while starting to fuss. “Yeah, good nap?” Puck asks as he picks him up. Joel does not respond. 

“Puck? Are you still there?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah, he woke up,” Puck says, sitting back down in front of the phone and bouncing Joel a little. “I’ve got a few minutes before he really wants a bottle, I think.” 

“Cool. So, I’m _not_ supposed to carry the car seat?”

“Well, you can carry it to and from the car, but his head slumps over and everything when he’s in it,” Puck says. 

“Can you put pillows around his head or something?” Finn asks. 

“I ordered these strap things. Pillows are bad because of suffocation,” Puck says. “They sent a lot of papers home from the hospital with him, and my mom threw them all out, but I got most of ‘em back out and read through them.” 

“I guess she figured she already knew all the baby stuff.”

“Yeah, so I asked her about the helmets and flat spots and tummy time, and she didn’t know what I was talking about,” Puck says. “So maybe she doesn’t know. I looked on Netflix for some kind of ‘how to take care of baby’ show but no luck yet.” 

“Maybe you can find something on YouTube. I bet they have YouTube videos about that,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I’m about to figure out how to change a diaper, one way or the other,” Puck says. “Yeah, we’re not going to tell your grandma about this yet, right?” he says to Joel as he stands up, then raises his voice to make sure it carries to the phone. “She told me yesterday she was sure I’d put the diaper on backwards.” 

“Does it matter if it’s backwards?” Finn asks. 

“I guess the leg-hole is different? I don’t know,” Puck says as he puts Joel down on the changing table. “And it’s not like I can’t see if there’s still poop or not. That was the other thing she said, that she didn’t think I’d get him clean enough.” 

“Maybe she thinks you won’t get all the pee off or something,” Finn says. “Maybe she’s just being a jerk.”

“Dude, you know my mom. Probably the ‘being a jerk’ option.” Puck makes a face at Joel as he removes the diaper and wipes him down. “I swear, she thinks I want him to get a diaper rash.” 

“Do you put baby powder on him?”

“No. Would you believe that stuff is mislabeled? It’s _bad_ for babies and their lungs or something,” Puck says, getting another diaper on Joel without too much trouble. “They packed a lot of information into those papers from the hospital.” 

Finn lets out a disbelieving huff. “Oh, man. Baby powder doesn’t go on babies. Weird. What about baby _oil_?”

“Didn’t mention it either way,” Puck says as he picks Joel back up. “So I’m not using it, just in case.” Joel lets out a relatively loud noise that Puck can best describe as a squeak. “Excuse you.” 

“Was that the baby?” Finn asks. “Did he talk?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” Puck says. “He’s starting to think about a bottle now, I guess.” 

“Aww. Hi, Joel. Or, Jonah, since that’s a cool name, too,” Finn says. 

“He’s just mouthing my shoulder now,” Puck says. “So when do I start with Burt?” 

“If you go in on Saturday, he can do a, you know. One of those orientation things.”

“So can I bring the baby by your place first?” Puck asks. 

“Sure. I think Rachel’s coming over, but she can help,” Finn says. “I bet she’d like the baby.”

“Yeah, if she mentions it, tell her I _know_ it’s the eighth day, and to drop it,” Puck says. 

“I don’t know what she’d say about eight days, but okay, cool, I’ll tell her that.”

“It’s a Jew thing,” Puck says. “Text me what time, okay? I’ve got to go downstairs and get the bottle warmed up and all, which probably means arguing with my mom.” Puck is already mentally bracing himself, and he forces himself not to hold Joel too tightly. 

“If you need help or something, just call me,” Finn says. “Dunno if I’d be a _lot_ of help, but I could try, at least.”

“Thanks, dude. See you tomorrow,” Puck says, then hangs up. He takes two deep breaths, which make Joel stop fussy temporarily, and Puck makes a mental note of that as he walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

“First, we’re going to put the water on the stove,” Puck says to Joel in his usual tone of voice, knowing his mom will hear him. 

“If you really want to help, you could go to the store and get more formula,” Puck’s mom says. 

“Then, we get out your bottle,” Puck says to Joel, putting the bottle in the water before turning towards his mom. “I’m not helping.” 

“Good. I’m glad you can recognize that,” his mom says. “Here, hand me the baby, and you can take my pocketbook.”

“I’m _not helping_ ,” Puck repeats, and this time, he does tighten his arms around Joel a little. “It’s not helping if it’s my kid.” 

“It’s helping if you aren’t the primary caretaker.”

Puck snorts. “Oh, and you think you are?” 

“I am the one who’s been doing the feeding and the changing,” Puck’s mom says. 

“Yeah, not sure that counts,” Puck says under his breath. “We got this, don’t we?” he says to Joel, who is still mouthing at Puck’s shoulder. “Bottle’s almost ready and everything.” 

“You have to test it first. You could burn him.”

“Yeah, it’s going to burn him while it’s still sitting in the pot, Mom,” Puck says, rolling his eyes. “We’ll be gone tomorrow, by the way.” 

“Oh? And where do you think you’re going?” Puck’s mom asks. 

Puck side-eyes her as he does, in fact, test the bottle. “Nowhere he could get sick, if that’s your worry.” 

“You can’t just go gallivanting around town with a newborn, Noah. Use some common sense!”

“No gallivanting involved,” Puck says. “We’ll be fine.” 

“If you’re going to be fine, you can tell me where you’re going. I _am_ your mother,” Puck’s mom says. 

Puck stares at her as he sits, and keeps staring while Joel starts to take the bottle, and then Puck starts to laugh. He holds in the deepest laugher, since Joel _is_ eating, but the bottle is significantly more empty before he manages to speak. “ _Now_ you want to know where I am?” 

“If you insist on taking my grandson with you.”

“My—” Puck stops and clears his throat. “My son.” 

“Noah, you are sixteen,” Puck’s mom says. “You can’t take care of a baby without my help.” She sighs and sits down at the kitchen table. “I’m going to legally adopt the baby.”

“Like hell you are!” Puck says, pulling away from her slightly. “I know I’d have to sign something, and I’m not signing _anything_.” 

“Then I’ll petition the court for custody, have your parental rights terminated, and _then_ I will adopt him. He needs an adult to take care of him, not a high school sophomore, Noah, be reasonable here!”

“You screwed me up, why would I let you do that to him!” Puck says. “One of the places I’ll be tomorrow will be a lawyer’s office, I guess.” He glares at her, then looks down at Joel. “Hey, buddy, let’s get out of here, just finish up.” 

“And how are you going to pay for a lawyer, Noah?” Puck’s mom asks. 

Puck snorts. “How are _you_?” 

“I still have Trish Huffman on retainer from the last time I had to take that sorry father of yours to court for child support,” she says. 

“Yeah, she’ll still bill you, I remember you talking about that part, too,” Puck says, setting the bottle down and lifting Joel to his shoulder. “C’mon, give me a nice burp. I’m not letting you adopt him.” 

“We’ll just see about that,” Puck’s mom says, crossing her arms and resting them on the table. 

Joel lets out a pretty loud burp, and Puck stands up. “You don’t even know his name.” 

“That doesn’t matter. Whatever ridiculous name you gave him, I can have that fixed once the adoption goes through.”

“You know, it’s bad enough you screwed me up, but now you want to screw me _over_ and screw him up, too!” Puck says. He shifts Joel in his arms. “Okay, buddy, let’s you and me go get ready for bed. Tomorrow’s a busy day.” 

“Noah. Don’t you leave this kitchen. I am talking to you!” Puck’s mom says. 

“It’s almost bedtime,” Puck says calmly. “You’re not talking to me, you’re threatening to take my son out of my custody. I think we’ve said everything we need to say to each other.” 

“It’s not a threat. It’s a fact.”

“And there’s the threat again,” Puck says. He walks to the stairs and doesn’t turn his head, lowering his voice to talk to Joel. “Maybe we can get you some more of those sleepers tomorrow, Joel. Never know when you might poop a lot, or that’s what those papers said.” 

Puck must have caught his mom off-guard enough that she can’t get it together to bother him again, because he doesn’t hear her again before he falls asleep. He doesn’t do her sacred bedtime routine, either, instead putting Joel in pajamas and singing to him until he falls asleep, then putting him in the crib. Puck’s bed _is_ still in the room, even though his mom’s been making him sleep on the couch, so Puck stretches out on it, figuring it can’t hurt to get an early start on the night. He’ll have to go up and down for bottles as it is. 

Joel wakes up for one of those bottles a little before seven the next morning, and Puck decides to pack a bag for both of them. If he’s really lucky, they’ll get downstairs and out the door for the day before his mom wakes up. He gets both of them dressed, the bag packed, and bottles in another bag, Joel’s bottle almost warmed up, before he hears his mom’s bedroom door open. 

“Shh,” Puck says to Joel. “We’re almost gone.” He plucks the bottle from the water, turns off the flame, and grabs both bags as he hears her on the stairs, and he sighs a little. He won’t completely avoid her, so best to face her head on. He shifts Joel so he can pick up the car seat, too, then walks out of the kitchen. “Morning, Mom. Bye, Mom.” 

“What time will you have the baby home tonight?” 

“When we’re both ready to go to bed,” Puck says. 

“That’s much too late to keep him out!” Puck’s mom protests. 

Puck makes a face at her. “It’s not even a time. For all you know that’s going to be five in the afternoon.” 

“You don’t go to bed at five in the afternoon.”

“But he might,” Puck says. “I said ‘we’.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “Do what you want. This is all just more justification for me to get custody.”

“Yeah, me taking care of my own baby, that’s definitely something judges hate,” Puck says, scowling at her. “Bye.” He heads out the door, being careful not to slam it behind him, then straps the carseat into the truck. Bags in the floor, Puck climbs into the driver’s seat and looks in the rearview mirror. 

“Well, Joel, we’ve got about two hours to kill,” Puck says as he starts the engine. “Luckily for us, it’s nice enough we can go sit on a bench at the park or something.” 

Puck isn’t sure if it’s being outside or just the time of day, but Joel is awake most of the time they’re at the park, staring at Puck and making more squeaking sounds. Puck doesn’t say much, but he does look more closely at Joel, and after about an hour, Puck grins at him, almost in spite of himself. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty cute, I guess,” Puck says. “Sorry we had a rough start. Not your fault. Those papers didn’t say how long until you smile. Maybe you can work on that today while I’m working.” Joel lets out another squeak, and Puck holds him up a little more. “Those are ducks, if you can see them.” 

They stay at the park until it’s 9:30, which Puck decides is close enough to ten to head over to Finn’s place. It’s barely 9:45 when he rings the doorbell, but Joel is starting to mouth everything, and Puck’s starting to think that might be a sign that he’s getting hungry soon. Puck puts the car seat down, because Finn’ll have to put it in his or Carole’s car anyway. 

Carole is the one who actually answers the door, looking surprised. “Oh! Noah, I didn’t know you were coming over, and with the baby!”

“Oh, uh, yeah, Finn said he could watch him today,” Puck says. 

“ _Finn’s_ going to watch him?” Carole says, her eyebrows rising towards her hairline. “He doesn’t know a thing about babies.”

“Neither did I a week ago,” Puck says with a shrug. “It’s not too hard yet. Feed him, change him, hold him.” 

“Maybe it would be best if I stuck around this morning, then. I can help him if he has any questions.”

“If you want to,” Puck says. “I’m supposed to go to Burt’s shop, and I need to find a lawyer, too.”

“On a Saturday?” Carole asks, shaking her head. “I think you’ll have a hard time with that. Is Quinn interested in sharing custody?” 

“My mom wants to have my parental rights terminated.” 

“What!” Carole exclaims, as behind her, Finn’s voice also shouts, “What!”

“So she can adopt him,” Puck says, sounding even more disgusted than he means to. “So she can screw me over and screw him up at the same time, I guess.” 

“Mom! Don’t let her do that!” Finn says, elbowing his way past Carole, and then backing them both up so Puck can actually step into the house with Joel. 

“I can’t stop her from trying, Finn,” Carole says.

“But that’s terrible!” Finn says.

“I agree, but I can’t stop her from trying,” Carole repeats. “Though I can probably help you find a lawyer this week, Noah.”

“Cool. Thanks. So, uh, this is Joel. Or Jonah, if you’re Finn,” Puck says. 

“I didn’t make that up. It just sounded like he said Jonah,” Finn explains. 

“Joel and Jonah don’t sound that much alike,” Carole says. 

“Joel Noah Puckerman,” Puck says. 

“Ah,” Carole says. “Okay, that does sound a bit like Jonah.”

“I think he’s getting hungry, if you want me to feed him before I go,” Puck says to Finn. 

“Yeah, you can show me how to do that, just in case Rachel doesn’t know how, either,” Finn says.

“Rachel?” Carole asks. “She’s coming over again?”

“Yeah, we were gonna go to a movie, but then I said I would babysit for Puck, and so we’re having a babysitting date,” Finn says. 

“That’s 200 percent more people than I expected over before lunch,” Carole says, but she smiles as she shakes her head slowly, holding a hand out in Puck’s direction and gesturing at the bag he’s holding. “I assume that’s for diapers?”

“Yeah, and his bottles are in the one in the car seat,” Puck says. “Sorry, but I couldn’t leave him at home with my mom. She just leaves _him_ in the car seat. It’s safe enough, I guess, but it doesn’t seem all that great of an idea.” 

“Oh dear,” Carole mutters as she takes the bag. 

“Show me how to change his diaper, too, so I can tell Rachel how to do it,” Finn says.

“Finn, don’t you think that’s a little sexist?” Carole asks.

“No, Mom, it’s to help her with her, like, _acting_ ,” Finn says. “For her method. She needs lots of dramatic life experiences to help with that, she said. Diapers are probably dramatic the first couple of times, right, Puck?”

“Uh, well, they’re smelly, I guess,” Puck says. “I figured it was good for Finn to know how to do something Rachel didn’t, Ms. H.” 

Carole smiles. “I’m still keeping an eye on you when she’s here, Finn. You can’t offer to babysit and then pawn the baby off on your girlfriend.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Puck says, picking up the bag of bottles and walking towards Finn’s kitchen. 

“Exactly! I would never do that,” Finn says. As soon as Carole turns her back, though, Finn holds up his thumb and index finger about an inch apart and mouths, “I would a little bit do that.” 

“Not with _my_ kid, you better not!” Puck mouths back. 

“Never!” Finn promises silently, crossing his heart. 

“I can hear your lips moving, you two,” Carole says without turning around. “I always know when you’re pretending not to talk.”

“We don’t know what you mean,” Puck says. “Okay, so, you put water in a pot, and the bottle in the water, and warm it up that way,” Puck says to Finn. “Then test the temperature on your wrist, and then… let him have at it.” 

Carole seems more dubious than Finn or Puck either one by the time Puck leaves, but Joel’s eating a bottle and there’s plenty of diapers, so Puck feels okay about it all as he heads over to Burt’s shop. 

The first five minutes are a blur of names before Burt sits Puck down in the office area. “So, you want a job.” 

“Yeah. Yes, sir,” Puck says, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I know I don’t know as much as these guys, but I learn things pretty fast, if it’s moving things around with my hands.” 

Burt nods. “Carole said Finn said you needed a job because of the baby?” 

“Yeah. Yes,” Puck corrects himself. “My mom, she wants to adopt him, so I don’t think she’s going to be buying more formula, now that I told her I wouldn’t sign anything, you know? So I have to buy formula and clothes and pay a lawyer.” 

“A—well, let’s get you started on some basic stocking and cleaning today,” Burt says, but he looks lost in thought. Puck spends the next few hours learning about the different kinds of oil and oil filters, reading slowly about the regulations for disposing of oil, and doing a lot of sweeping. The shop is about to close for the day when Burt comes up behind him. 

“Did you need me to sweep somewhere else?” Puck asks. 

“No, go ahead and put that away and come into the office,” Burt says. Puck does, trailing after him, and Burt shuts the door. “Noah Puckerman. I can’t say I hadn’t heard your name before,” he says, and Puck shrugs uncomfortably. “This probably sounds as unbelievable to you as it first did to me in my head, but after what you told me, and talking to Carole, I think… I want to tell you that I think you and that son of yours should probably leave your mother’s house, and since I know that sounds impossible to you, let me explain.” 

Puck nods, his eyes wide, because surely Burt doesn’t mean that he and Joel should sleep in the truck. 

“There’s room at my house for the both of you. It won’t be spacious, but Carole says I’ll be surprised at how neat you are,” Burt says. “It’s a good, clean home, and the lawyers and any judge will like that, too. We can even draw up a very basic rental contract. I’ll charge you a couple of dollars a month.” 

“I—” Puck feels like he’s actually speechless. 

“I can even deduct it from your paycheck,” Burt says, looking pleased with himself as he chuckles. “No, that’s a separate account. Not tonight, but tomorrow. Start bringing your stuff by any time after noon. No, after one pm, just to be sure. Understood?” 

“Um. Yes, sir,” Puck says, suddenly glad he’s already sitting down. He hadn’t really thought about the logistics of living with his mom while simultaneously fighting her in court, but Burt’s solution isn’t the worst one. He thinks about asking what Kurt thinks, then decides that isn’t Puck’s problem, in the end. He’ll just wait and see what happens. “Thank you.” 

Puck feels a little bit like he’s in a daze on the drive back to Finn’s, considering that in twenty-four hours, he’s named Joel, gotten a job, found a new place to live, discovered his mother’s plans, and more or less gotten at least some of his old relationship with Finn back. He takes a couple of deep breaths as he parks, then heads back up to Finn’s door and rings the bell for the second time that day. 

Finn opens the door, Joel awake and cradled in one arm. “Hey! How was work?”

“Mostly cleaning,” Puck says as he steps in. “How was the little guy?” 

“I have no idea how to answer that, because I have no other babies to compare him to,” Finn says cheerfully. 

“Well, you know. Did he eat and poop and sleep?” Puck asks. 

“Oh yeah. He’s good at all that stuff!”

“Is that Noah?” Carole’s voice comes from the other room. “Did you tell him he’s staying for dinner?”

“Uh, you’re staying for dinner,” Finn says to Puck, then calls back, “I told him!” 

Puck laughs. “Okay, cool. Hey,” he says to Joel. “Guess what, buddy? We’re moving tomorrow.” 

“Where are you moving?” Finn asks. Joel squeaks, which makes Finn look alarmed. 

“Oh, he just likes that noise,” Puck says. “To Burt’s.” 

Carole appears in the doorway. “So you accepted?” she asks. “Good.”

“Burt didn’t give me a whole lot of a choice on that score, but yeah,” Puck says, then turns back to Finn. “Did you get to teach Rachel about diapers?” 

“You know, it turns out that Rachel didn’t want to learn how to change diapers,” Finn says. He shrugs. 

“She _did_ help in another way, however,” Carole says. 

“Oh, yeah, my mom talked to Rachel’s dads, and they gave her a phone number for a lawyer they know in Bowling Green,” Finn says. 

“Yeah? Okay, cool,” Puck says. “That’s a lot better than I thought last night.” 

“He can see you after school on Monday. We’ll get this all sorted out, I promise,” Carole says. 

“See, Joel, we’ll both be ready for bed around the same time,” Puck says as he starts to reach for him. Finn hands Joel off to Puck.

“Finn, you can set the table while Puck and Joel-Not-Jonah have some father-son bonding time together,” Carole says.

“Oh yeah! That reminds me!” Finn says. “Rachel helped with one more thing, too. She says Joel’s supposed to have a special Jewish name or something, right?”

“Yeah, but today’s the eighth day already.” 

“Well, so I told her I got Joel’s name mixed up when you first told me it, and she got really excited and said that you should name him _Yonah_ for his Jewish name,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs. “So that way, you’ve managed to sneak in a ‘Jonah’ in his name after all? Clever.” 

Finn looks pleased with himself as he goes to set the table, and Puck leans against the wall as he looks down at Joel. “See?” Puck says to him, and Joel squeaks. “Already doing better than we were two days ago.”


End file.
